


I Know You Will

by technicallyGone



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, It's a close call though, Kurloz and Mituna as moirails, Mituna doesn't have his accident, Princes and Slaves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-01
Updated: 2012-10-01
Packaged: 2017-11-15 09:56:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/526024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/technicallyGone/pseuds/technicallyGone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurloz is a prince of  a large kingdom. Mituna is a slave, and the only thing that reminds Kurloz that he's not alone.</p><p>Things change when the King finds of what his son's doing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Know You Will

**Author's Note:**

> All the saying 'I love you' is as friends, with no romantic feelings or anything. Just so no one mixes that up.
> 
> Also: sorry for any errors.

Your name is Kurloz Makara and it’s your job to protect your people.

That’s what everyone says, anyways. You think it’s bullshit. You’re the prince of one of the most powerful -and most feared- kingdoms.

Powerful because of your land’s resources and feared because of the biased court system. There are royal guards everywhere, ‘protecting’ people. If they find something wrong -a person misbehaving or a slave mouthing off to someone- or just feel like it really, the person is carried off to be judged by the royal guard that saw them committing the act and the king.

98% of all accusations end in the person being tried being beheaded by the king himself.

You’ve even executed a few people for your training as future ruler. You still get nightmares about that.

The only thing keeping you sane is your absolute best friend ever. His people are psionics. Instead of being killed for witchcraft, though, your kingdom ‘spares’ people like that by making them slaves.

He’s one of the best psionics around. Therefore, he’s still being trained. You understand he’ll eventually be sold off and will no longer be in the training grounds near the palace and instead off somewhere distant, working for some rich person who’ll only hurt him. The thought makes you sad though, so you simply don’t think about it.

` “KURLOZ!”

You’re father is calling again. Probably for something you did -or didn’t do-. Most the time you’re punished for turning a blind eye to a slave stealing a little food from the kitchen. You don’t exactly like slaves, or feel pity for them. But Mituna asks that if you won’t help them, that you should at least not punish them for trying to get by. So you do. For him.

You do a lot of things for him. You’d do anything for him. You know he’d do anything for you too, and not just because of your name or title. He makes you feel less alone.

An echo reminds you of the fact that you are, most the time, alone though. The halls you’re walking through to get to the king are bare. As are all the streets when you decide to get out of the walls of the palace. People fear you, and hide. So you’ve stopped recognizing them as people. They’re just playthings. Mituna reminds you though. He gives you your humanity back. You’re afraid if he didn’t that you’d only remember after you’d killed them -watched their bodies go limp and their still open eyes loose all their life and watch so much of their blood pool around you that you feel you could drown in it-. Maybe that’s why your father is the way he is. Maybe that’s why every royal person is the way they are. They kill to see life.

Ironic, isn’t it?

Eventually you get to door your father’s always behind. The royal court room. Or execution room. It’s all one and the same.

“KURLOZ!”

He’s shouting for you again right before you open the door. He’s practically crushing a maid you saw taking bread earlier by pressing one of his feet to her chest as she sobs on the ground.

“Yes, your Highness?”

He’s never been you’re actually father, and he knows that. The only family you have is the maid that watched over you when you were little. -She was your first kill, when you were ten. Your father said you were too dependent and this was your first step to independence-

He looks over.

“You did it again!” he rages. “I don’t understand your…your sympathy for these pathetic people!”

She obviously did not have the markings of a psionic -normally indicated by mismatched eyes-, which made Kurloz glad. He couldn’t stand seeing psionics being executed. His mind always jumped to Mituna.

“It’s not sympathy.”

“Then why do you turn a blind eye to their unlawful actions?”

“I simply didn’t see her,” you say, voice quiet and even as ever.

“LIAR!”

Before you can get another word in, your father’s sword has cut cleanly against the girl’s neck, and you see it.

Bright red pouring out. That same red which every human has in their veins. There are people out there that loved her and cared for her and will terribly mourn her loss. She had a family. She had friends. She could have had a future, if she had not been brought to this room, this palace, this entire kingdom.

You stand there, zoning out, even after your father leaves. Once the blood finally becomes brown around the edges, you manage to move. You walk to the long-dead corpse and nudge her. No movement, no resistance from the body. You step back and see your footprint in bright red. You’d stepped in her blood.

Shaking, you reach down. Smear some of the bright red around, covering the brown edges. Move it, splash it. That’s the only thing that keeps humans living. Blood, moving all throughout their bodies. Another splash. This girl’s blood is still moving. It’s like she’s still alive. And if she’s still alive, she’s not really a person. Just a shell of a body avoiding you.

You get angry, spread the bright red around the room as much as you can. Cover as much as you can in it. Look down at your gloved hands and see them covered in red. Red, a color. Red, a substance. Red, not blood.

You run to the psionics training grounds as quick as you can. You take the same back streets you know are hardly ever riddled with guards like the other streets are. You can hear children scream as they spot you through the windows. Usually you’re more careful, but right now you’re covered in blood and you aren’t exactly sure why you did what you did and you want Mituna to hug you and explain everything in that calming voice like he always does. A hug…god you want a hug. And his familiar scent and to be in the only place you’ve ever felt safe. -Which is really anywhere, as long as he’s with you-

You get there and he’s waiting out back, behind some rocks. The same place you two always meet. It’s like he knows. His arms are open, and you don’t hesitate to hug him. He’s smaller than you. He’s always been so much smaller than you. You tuck his head in under your chin and grip his thin frame. Eventually, you calm down.

“What happened?” he ask, and you almost want to cry. Almost. You never though you’d be that happy to hear his voice.

“Blood. And I kept it moving. All around,” you mumbled.

If you bothered to look down you know you’d see him shaking. You scare him a little bit. But he’s your friend. He’s there for you and you don’t even know why. But you love him for that.

“It’ll be alright,” he eventually mumbled, and you can’t help but be comforted.

He says it’ll be alright, so it will.  
________________________________________________________________________

You’re name doesn’t matter. You are strong and powerful and haven’t been called anything but ‘Your Highness’ since you were 17. You’ve been seeing things he didn’t want to see. You’ve been watching when he though you weren’t. You saw the mistake he never tried to hide. And you’re going to break your son of his sick dependence once and for all.  
________________________________________________________________________

“KURLOZ!”

You’re now Kurloz again and you’re being yelled at. Again. You’ve been avoiding the court/execution room since that day months ago.

You’ve done a good job so far. Even if you did have to go in there, you closed your eyes and ran before you saw any blood -red, color, potential energy ready to be moved-. Just looked away and let the screaming shell die.

This time you can’t look away.

Now pinned under your father’s foot is Mituna. Already bruised and bleeding from cuts all over and shaking with silent sobs.

“Is this the cause of your weakness?”

You’re shaking and you can tell he can tell.

He smiled, and as he puts more pressure on the other’s chest, you can hear a sick crack of ribs.

“P-please. Let him go,” you say desperately, voice shaking.

“I’ll let him live. But know this is what happens when you talk to those lower than you.”

You’re not allowed to leave -move, breathe- as you watch your father beat your best friend up for the next hour. Once he leaves you cradle his limp body in your arms, listening to his faint heart beat. Someone from the training center comes to pick him up nearly three hours later. You don’t let them touch him for who knows how long.

You know what you have to do as you watch the other psionics carry him out.  
________________________________________________________________________

Your name is 06523. You call yourself Mituna, though. You gave yourself the name after the Prince kept asking your name and wouldn’t simply accept a bunch of numbers.

The Prince…Kurloz Makara. He visits you often. Gives you a small time to escape from your training, your punishments and your fears. He comforts you when you’re anxious about being sold and never mind returning the favor and comforting him. He’s honestly your only friend.

Sometimes he scares you with the things he says. But that’s just who he is. You accept it. You never have to be scared by the things he does, though, since he never hurts you. Why would you be scared of what he does if he only does things to help you, protect you, comfort you?

Today you answer your own question.

He comes to you, and you look at the neat row of stitches across his mouth. You also find out the only thing that would hurt worse then him hurting you is him hurting himself.

He gives you a small, sad smile best he can, and you can see the fresh stitches tear the skin a bit, causing a small amount of blood to run down his chin. He makes some very crude jesters, and you finally understand what he’s trying to convey. You don’t know weather to laugh or cry when you put together all the words you’d finally guessed.

“They can’t hurt you if I don’t talk.”

He nods, and you hug him. When something drips onto your head you’re not sure if it’s blood from the stitching or if he’s crying for the first time since you met him.

You guess both.  
________________________________________________________________________

You’re Kurloz and you’ve been careful.

Each time you go visit him you take a different route. Kill any guard who sees you.

You’re pissed because he still found out.

But he still won’t kill Mituna though. No, he’s going go injure him. Hurt him in a way you know is too cruel.

You’ve heard of cases where a psionic sustains enough head injury to where they can no longer focus. They loose their psionic abilities because they can’t think of what they’re to do to focus the energy long enough to actually perform any tasks.

You’re father is about to make a myth a reality. Set a new standard of torture for all psionics. Without their abilities, psionics are useless. Freaks. And Mituna will probably be sold as some laborer or sex slave.

A prince from a kingdom more powerful than yours is set up to buy him for practically nothing. The prince’s name is Cronus.

You refuse to let this happen. Refuse.

Things must be set up for this, precautions that he won’t actually be killed. He’s being held in the prison cells under the palace till tomorrow. You snatch the key and go down, opening his cell.

“You have to go,” you sign, and you know he sees you, even in the dim light.

There’s a lot of arguing, but eventually he goes. You sneak him to the end of the kingdom’s borders, which takes nearly two weeks of constant hiding.

“Come with me,” he says, pulling on your hand and begging.

“I can’t,” you sign before hugging him.

“Why not?”

“If I go they’ll look for us. If you just go, they’ll only be loosing a little gold.”

“…I’ll find you again.”

“I know you will.”

He smiled sadly, but you just hold out your hand, all but your middle and ring finger up, your pointer finger and thumb making an ‘L’. Sign language for ‘I love you’.

Mituna gripped the small bag of necessities he had and nodded.

“Love you too,” he mumbled before running out of your sight.

When you get ‘home’, you end up broken, battered, and beaten, both physically and emotionally.

You could feel the world grow colder, most distant the more you though about Mituna.

For the first time since you’d found him, you were truly and utterly alone.  
________________________________________________________________________

You’re name is Mituna Captor. You’d decided on a last name once you were 17. Your friend Kankri helped though.

You found Kankri as you ran. He helped you, and you helped him. He preached about equality and fairness that was lacking in other kingdoms and you found him people to preach to. You two had finally been caught after you’d gone nearly two years preaching inside the very kingdom you came from. Before he preached here, though, you he had found a wife, Meulin. She came along, writing everything down. Now that you’re group was up to three members, you all agreed to go back to your kingdom. Once got caught, you expected to see the man that’d tortured you so long ago.

The room looked different though. Dried blood was everywhere. In a few places not covered in the brownish -wait, is that still red over there?- it looked like crude drawings. Painting. You were so happy when you recognized the stitches across the face of the man sitting on the thrown though. You smiled, even as your companions trembled.

“Kurloz-”

You were roughly pushed by one of the guards holding your arms. You waited for Kurloz to instruct them to let you go. He didn’t.

“Kurloz,” he mumbled again, and he motions for them to let you speak. “It’s me…Mituna…”

His lips curve into a smile, the stitches no longer fresh and no longer pulling at the toughened skin.

“I know,” he signs before turning to his guards, making them drop you.

You smile.

“Thank yo-”

You’re cut off as he shoves Kankri to the ground, stepping on his chest.

-Like his father did-

As he beheads him.

-Like his father-

As he did the same to Meulin, who was screaming and thrashing and crying.

As he had you taken away. Locked up. As he personally sold you to a queen of another kingdom.

“Oh! He’ll do perfectly~”

The woman with fuchsia eyes and long black hair pulled you to a boat at the edge of Kurloz’s kingdom and you realized you didn’t come back in time. You got too caught up in Kankri, in changing the world.

You realize you probably deserve whatever is to happen to you.


End file.
